Wise Up
by BringMeGiants
Summary: My take on how Grissom finally got with the programme. GSR! First fic, so all reviews appreciated!


**Please review as this is my first attempt at writing, or writing fan fiction, so I'd like to know if I'm on the right track!**

**Oh, and English is my second language, so try not to be to harsh:-)**

**_And no -when I woke up this morning, I still didn't own CSI, Beautiful Billy or anything even remotely connected toCBS -except the first five seasons on DVD, bought at great expense I might add!_**

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**Wise Up**

She was striking, but in an understated, almost bashful way. He noticed her the moment she came through the doors of the lecture hall, watched her as she wavered at the top of the stairs and was vaguely surprised when he felt a flush of pleasure as she slipped into a seat in the front row.

Maybe it was the way her brow furrowed while she listened to him, or the way her eyes sparkled when she asked a question. It might have been the slight pout she gave when she didn't quite agree with the answers he offered.

But by the end of the lecture he was mesmerized.

He was insanely grateful when she came over to his desk afterwards and peppered him with a thousand questions. Thrilled that they spent the next two hours talking – him, leaning somewhat awkwardly against his desk; she, balancing on the corner, idly swinging her legs.

Of course he ended up asking her out for a drink.

Espressos at a coffee shop round the corner turned into dinner at the restaurant next door. By the time he got back to his hotel room, it was way past midnight and her perfume was clinging to his clothes.

But he knew she was way out of his league. He knew he had nothing unique to offer her. Realised he could absolutely not allow it to go anywhere.

So he made sure it didn't.

Falling in love – or not – is simply a choice.

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Yeah, they kept in touch - almost daily e-mails, the occasional phone call - but he was careful to keep it light, even if he sometimes found it impossible to stop his responses from being slightly flirtatious.

She was too young.

She was too far away.

He was a lecherous old man for even entertaining such thoughts…

So why did he phone her up and ask her to barge head first into the shit storm that had become the graveyard shift? What could have driven him to invite the devil into his inner sanctum, virtually daring her to shake him out of the quiet equilibrium he was so careful to maintain around him?

He had chosen to ignore the way his heart fluttered when he put the phone down.

He'd been in love before.

This wasn't it.

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She was like a brisk sea breeze - fresh, cleansing and invigorating. Reminding him with every quirky look and droll remark why he found her so beguiling. In the midst of all that chaos, she was his rock, his touchstone.

Still the smartest one in the room, still eager to learn, still wanting to impress, but more seasoned, more mature.

And even more enthralling.

So he asked her to stay, outwardly feigning easy confidence and charm, inwardly praying that she wouldn't be able to see the slight tremble in his hands or somehow hear the way his heart was pounding in his chest.

She had cocked her head and frowned at him with that half smile, half pout of hers, obviously trying to figure out what was going on in his head. Staring at him with such intensity that his breath caught in his throat.

That's when he realised he could no longer live without that stare.

Please don't say no.

She didn't.

The thing he wanted the most. The person he feared the most. Now living in the same city, working at the same lab. Getting to see her every night. Thinking about her every day.

Not bad.

But not good.

Definitely not love.

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He had spent a lifetime training his mind and his heart to do his bidding. He had convinced himself that emotion had no place in the world he inhabited. He took great pride in the fact that he could ignore anything he felt – fear, hatred, anger… love… and simply get on with the job at hand.

Except when she was in the vicinity.

Being around her made him yearn for a life he had long ago abandoned. Made him painfully aware of dreams and desires he had shoved on the back shelf years ago. And although he tried desperately, he couldn't help but look forward to every shift with increasing fervour.

It wasn't because he found the science fascinating.

He paired the two of them on as many cases as possible. Stealing glances at her while she photographed a scene or finding seemingly innocent reasons to brush against her while they collected evidence.

Sharing knowing smiles whenever they caught themselves doing their weird Vulcan mind meld.

Leaning in close when she showed him some new evidence at the lab.

He knew it was folly.

Flirting with her - nothing but madness.

It had to stop.

So he stopped it.

It wasn't like he was in love with her or anything.

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He might have failed in his attempts to feel _nothing,_ but he was still able to disregard and deny what he _was_ feeling. Hoping that somehow, not acknowledging her in person, would translate into not having to acknowledge the way she affected him.

He couldn't afford to lose this battle.

So he became dismissive and watched helplessly as her smile faded, till he could no longer remember what the exact sound of her laughter was like. He withdrew and became distant, and saw the sparkle in her eyes dim as the weeks and months went by.

No more flirting. No more touches, no more glances.

No more smiles.

He couldn't afford to lose this war.

Besides, she had started going out with the EMT. Tall, blonde, handsome…young. Everything she deserved. Everything _he_ wasn't.

What did he care, he didn't love her.

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And yet, she was all he thought about, all he wanted - in his dreams while he slept, in his daydreams while he worked. He could smell her on his pillow at night, hear her voice while he was in the shower, feel her brush against his skin when he got dressed in the morning. Sense her eyes on him as he drove to work.

She was everywhere.

She was nowhere.

And sometimes, despite his best intentions, despite his desperate attempts to purge her from his mind - his life – he found it impossible to stay away.

She was an addiction, and he needed his fix.

Grasping her hand while murmuring an endearment to her after the lab explosion, holding her hand in the police station after the DUI, brushing his hand over her arm while pinning her to a bloody sheet, clutching her hand as she sobbed in her apartment…

Feeling his entire world implode while he watched her struggle to get away from a psychotic rapist. His mouth to dry to do anything more than whisper a desperate plea to the guard to open the door.

Mentally screaming her name over and over again.

Feeling terrified.

Feeling impotent.

Being so tormented by those images of her, that he would wake up in a cold sweat for weeks afterwards.

But this was surely not because he was in love…

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And yet, eventually, even _he_ had to face irrefutable truths and deal with the fact that no matter what he tried, or how much he rationalised it in his head – he was doing nothing but feeding himself one lie after another.

Lies that _she_ wasn't the first thing he thought of every morning.

Lies that it wasn't _her_ voice he heard whenever he needed advice.

Lies that it wasn't always _her_ face that swam before his eyes as he lay in bed.

The lists of his lies could fill volumes.

The reasons and rationalisations he had so long clung to, were slipping away, along with the last remnants of his wary control. Work, or the age difference – these were just becoming blatantly empty excuses he had used to hide behind. It was becoming harder and harder to remember why he had started doing this to himself at all.

Why he was still doing it to her.

It was a total inability to answer that question that had finally brought him here. _That _was the reason he had walked falteringly up the stairs to her apartment; his rationale for hesitantly knocking on her door now. He had no idea what he was going to say when she opened it – he had no great speech prepared, no opportune quote for the occasion.

And for the first time in his life, no master plan.

He just knew that no matter what he had tried over the years, he had never been able to stop the things she had made him feel. Or stop the way he felt about her.

And she was still too young.

Still out of his league.

And he might have allowed her to grow too far away.

But no matter how much he had tried to deny it…

…he was in love.


End file.
